Page 19 of Thunder

It's a text from my boss, and the message sends a jolt of panic through me: "We are bringing in some specialists to assist. We need to get this local situation under control or you're off the project. Consider this your final warning."

I forget all about the tea kettle until it screams at me like a banshee.

All I can think about is how trapped I feel.

If I fail in my first high-profile project, my career in the field will be over before it even starts. I'll be branded as someone who can't handle the heat, any heat, and who can't negotiate her way out of a wet paper bag.

Blocking my way out of this mess is one man.

One disarmingly handsome, insanely kissable, frustrating-as-hell man that I can't get out of my mind. I have to figure out a way to beat Marcus, or my professional life is over before it's even begun.

Chapter Seven

Thunder

My eyes burn.

With the lingering effects of mace and nothing else, though I'm damn grateful Rook and Bullet aren't around to see me in the state I'm in. Gritting my teeth and squinting, I return my focus to the road, the long stretch of coastal asphalt that's my distraction from the conflicting emotions swirling in my chest—anger at myself, an unwavering resolution to protect the people in my life who aren't deceitful Science Bitches, people like Eileen and her grandkids, and an undeniable, yet confusing, attraction to Lia.

Even now, that heartless environmentalist has a hold on me.

My phone rings and I pull to the shoulder; it's a call from Owen.

"Yeah?"

"You close?" He says.

Something inside me drops, that gut feeling that comes with bad news. I seize on it, eager for the distraction from thoughts about Lia.

"Close enough. Fast enough, too. What's up?"

"Nat called me. Says someone's lurking near grandma's house. Looks dangerous."

"Where are you at, Owen?"

"I'm on my way, but I'm not close. Went into the big city. Needed to let loose some steam after that bullshit community meeting. Can you get over there and take a look?"

"I'm already on my way." It's only after I hang up I realize I'm smiling.

This may be exactly what I need.

I speed down the coastal road toward Eileen's. As I turn onto her driveway and take a corner, I spot a shadowy figure near rummaging through a shed not far from her house. My pulse quickens and my smile returns. I park my bike a safe distance away and move silently toward the intruder, every muscle coiled for action. I tighten my fists as I spot the can of gasoline in the man's hands—this isn't a simple burglary; it's an attempt at arson.

Who is this guy? And who sent him?

As terrible a person as she is, and as much as she resembles a soulless, swamp-dwelling, seductive harpy, Lia doesn't strike me as the type to employ arsonists to eliminate her competition.

There has to be something else at play. Some other reason this man is here.

I silently stalk closer, watching this man for any hint of who he's working for.

He works quietly, spreading gasoline in a clear pattern so that, when it goes up, it won't just incinerate the shed, it'll quickly spread through the property, taking out the house and all its occupants, too.

This isn't just arson, it's murder.

I have to act.

I charge in.

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